


What Must be Done

by CranApplePye



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, Sacrifice, Suicide Attempt, no death though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 08:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1338058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CranApplePye/pseuds/CranApplePye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles flips the sword around in his grip, sure in his knowledge of what needs to be done, less sure about how to carry it out. Hesitantly, he guides the tip of the blade to his stomach with one hand. It’s the samurai way to die. He’s seen this in movies. He’s read about it on the internet.  Knowledge and application feel like two very different things, though. The blade is sharp against his fingers. This is going to hurt. It’s going to hurt a lot. </p>
<p>  <i>Short drabble inspired by scenes from the previews of "Divine Move". </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	What Must be Done

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by [this gifset](http://inderlander.tumblr.com/post/80038173339/so-i-was-watching-both-the-previews-for-divine) on tumblr. This fic is also on tumblr, [here](http://inderlander.tumblr.com/post/80075895508/inderlander-so-i-was-watching-both-the-previews). 
> 
> I do not think Stiles is going to die, btw, but I wouldn't be surprised if he considers it. In any case, I apparently had the need to make myself cry today, so I wrote this. :P

The sword is cold in his hands, cold, like the snow around them. Cold like the feeling in his gut because he knows what he has to do. He has to make it stop.  Just make it all stop. No one else must die because of him. There’s been too much hurt already, too much death. People he barely even knew… and people he  _did_. Dead, because his friends trusted him. Dead, because he’d let this monster in somehow and hadn’t been strong enough to stop it. Allison was  _gone_  and Stiles… he wasn’t going to watch any more of his friends die. Not when he could prevent it.

Stiles flips the blade around in his grip, sure in his knowledge of what needs to be done, less sure about how to carry it out. Hesitantly, he guides the tip of the blade to his stomach with one hand. It’s the samurai way to die. He’s seen this in movies. He’s read about it on the internet.  Knowledge and application feel like two very different things, though. The blade is sharp against his fingers. This is going to hurt. It’s going to hurt a  _lot_. 

Why couldn’t they have, like, a nogitsune killing  _gun_ or something?  It would be easier.  To put a gun to his head and pull the trigger. So much faster, so much less pain.  But that’s not the way things are. They have a sword, and he has to make do. As he angles it away from his body with one hand, steadying the blade with the other, he finally thinks he understands  _why_ the samurai might have chosen this method. It’s the sword - the length of it really gets in the way of trying to do anything else.  He can’t easily cut his own throat or stab himself in the heart with it; the blade’s too long and his arms don’t work at those angles. He could slit his wrists probably, but that’s too slow and he knows,  _knows_ someone would try to save him; would make themselves vulnerable while covering his wrists and trying to stop the bleeding. They might get killed or they might succeed, both bad options. Evisceration isn’t exactly a quick way to go, but it’s final.  They won’t be able to save him.

They should never have tried.  He shouldn’t have let them.  Maybe no one else would have had to die.  It was his fault for hesitating. For being a coward.  Scott would never choose to sacrifice someone other than himself for the greater good, he never had and he never would. He wouldn’t hear of killing Jackson, he certainly wouldn’t hear of killing his best friend. Stiles saw things differently.  He should have been the strong one. Now he could only hope it wasn’t too late.

His hand shakes little on the hilt as he steels himself, hating that he’s still hesitating when he knows what hangs in the balance. He’s freezing, and he’s scared.  He’s not a hero, never been a hero. A hero wouldn’t feel like he was going to cry. A hero wouldn’t be so …  _afraid._   He’s afraid of the pain.  He’s afraid of dying. But he’s more afraid of watching everyone else die.  He’s not a hero. He wouldn’t sacrifice himself to save the world, a bunch of strangers… no, just  _these_ people.  Just the ones he loves.

"Stiles, no!" he hears Scott shouting at him and realizes that his friend has seen him.  Lydia’s noticed him too.  He’s out of time, he has to act.  Scott will stop him if he can.  Scott will try and try to save him until it gets him  _killed_ and Stiles… he can’t live with that. Not ever. 

_"I’m sorry,"_ he thinks, because he knows how this will hurt the people he leaves behind. He wishes he could spare them that, but there’s only so much he can do. At least they’ll be alive to mourn him.   _"I’m sorry, Dad,"_ he thinks more pointedly as he transfers both hands to the grip of the katana, hesitancy gone now, a numb steadiness taking its place.    It will hit his father worst, and he can’t bear to think about that because it will break him, and he just… he really needs to get through this without crying.   _Scott and Melissa will watch out for his dad. He knows they will._

He hears Scott howling as he tries to force his way through the Oni.  He remembers the feeling of another sword, moving and twisting inside his best friend’s body under his hand.  The fear falls away.  His hands tighten around the sword grip and he closes his eyes.   _Forgive me._

_—————-_

_…aaand just then something happens that totally changes things and he doesn’t get the chance to go through with it and everybody LIVES. *nods vigorously and reaches for a tissue*_


End file.
